


Lost Amongst The Stars

by trogchamp



Category: Wayfarers Series - Becky Chambers
Genre: F/M, Interspecies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28744110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trogchamp/pseuds/trogchamp
Summary: Ejected from home by the Rosk, a grounded Exodan struggles to rediscover his purpose in life.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Almost There

The dust. The dust filled the air, nostrils, lungs. Violently expelled, only to come back in, thicker than before. Breathing was labored. Blood trickled or ran in rivers. Pushing on, and on. In the face of excruciating pain, and in the face of a slow death. A rasping, shaking voice cuts through the strange silence between runs. "Stars... fuck. Fuck fuck... fuck!" A hand goes over a new wound, the torn cloth being stained by the draining life. As the hand clasped over, pain shot through faster than lightning. A piece of... something, was in the wound... probably best to leave it in. There would most likely be medical personnel at the evac site... if he could get there before he bled out.

The human is knocked onto his side as bombs hit buildings several blocks away, the sound nearly bursting his ear drums as the blast wave throws him like a ragdoll. More pain, more rocks digging into already torn flesh. He pushed himself up with his good arm, sobbing in pain as he shoved himself of the ground and broke into a hobbled run. Running to where, though? Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Plodding on he moved down the ruined street of his hometown. Once a fairly large colony one his home, now turned rubble, dust, and lost memories. The shriek of Rosk aircraft went overhead, but no explosions followed. They were content to ruin his home like this. Ruin his home, kill his friends and family and then run off before the GC could mobilize fast enough to catch them. Fucking bug bastards. 

And though he trudged on, broken in body and wracked by ill-tempered grief he never escaped the dust. The dust was all around him, filling his lungs with the vaporized remains of the things he cared for. He started to cough, his body trying to rid the lungs of this horrible memory-laden dust from his lungs. But it just came back. Choking him, killing him. Claiming him as another loss in the unnecessary act of violence that was the destruction of his colony. And the dust finally started to succeed in its malicious act, ripping the life from him as slowly as it liked, and slower still due to how much of a fight he put up.

+++++++

He coughed himself awake. He patted himself all over in the darkened passenger quarter. Feeling divots and scars, breathing recycled air. He was safe... physically, at least. That horrible nightmare stemmed from an event that happened a little over a standard ago. Flopping back down in his bunk he breathed heavily, laboring himself to be quiet, as he wasn't the only unlucky passenger aboard this vessel. An Aandrisk long-hauler with a multispecies crew had been generous enough to haul him over to Coriol when Mushtullo didn't work out for him. He hesitantly checked himself for sweat, he felt like he was burning as if he had a fever. And unfortunately, yes. He was sweating. That was going to be an unwelcome surprise if any of the crew with a keener sense of smell walked in. But for the moment he didn't care, he just was happy that he was alive in the bodily sense.

He sat up and... stifled a cry. He kept forgetting, stars, a standard he's been dealing with this and he keeps forgetting. His abdominal muscles were badly damaged during the Rosk bombing of his home colony. Along with a lot of the rest of his body. Though scars healed, a lot of it was probably going to be permanent without implants, due to him taking several days to find an evac site. Much less medical attention. He panted hard going up slower, this helped with the pain. Only dull throbs instead of the quick, yet somehow elongated stab from before. Once he finally reached his zenith his curled black hair brushed the bottom of the bunk above him, he continue his breathing, disciplined and regimented. He swung his legs out from the bed, leaning forward, up and out of the bunk. The soles of his feet were chilled by cold metal, causing a hard shiver, and more unhappy signals from various places in his body. He sighed, looking up at a camera in the corner of the room. "Hey... Isset?" he quietly called out, still not knowing if he was alone in the room, as he had to share it with an odd man. The vox clicked, and the ship's AI responded. "Yes, Nemo?", Isset was the ship's AI, though this was rather obvious. "How much longer to Coriol, this haul has been uh... killin' me to say the least.", the camera moved quietly, inspecting him. "Nightmares again huh?" Nemo only nodded, "We're a day out from Port. Hang in there." the AI stated, its encouragement making Nemo feel a bit better about his situation. "Yeah, yeah will do. Thanks Isset." He sat back down on the bunk, wiping sweat away from his eyes. One more day. One more day and he'd have another chance at... at this whole thing again. 

Coriol was his last hope before a fringe colony. He hoped and maybe prayed a little, that this time things would work out. That this time, he'd finally be able to get the reins back in his life. He only hoped.


	2. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After arriving to Port Coriol, Nemo finds himself amidst a popular celebration, and also finds himself in an... odd situation. For a human, at least.

The light rumbling of the shuttle as it made its descent to the surface of Coriol awoke him. Today would be the day he had a chance to start over. A new chance, far, far away from the Rosk and from bad memories. Or so he hoped he was getting far enough away, probably wasn't considering his luck. But that was an obstacle to overcome for later, now he needed to... find a job. Employment shouldn't be too hard to find on a place like Coriol, right? Someone is always in need of a helping hand for whatever odd-job they need an extra pair of appendages to do. He sighed lightly as the shuttle touched down, he rose from his seat, hefting up his bag from the floor. Simcap, clothes, hygiene products, scrib and... that was about it. This was pretty much all he had left, just this bag of what belongings could be fished out of the rubble. But that wasn't a concern anymore, what he needed to focus on now was Coriol. 

As he stepped out he was greeted by the sight of... more sapients than he had expected. There was a certain hum in the air. As he walked off the ramp and mixed into the chaotic river of other sapients he heard things about a 'festival' and 'parties'. Huh, whatever it was he probably didn't know what. He weaved his way through crowds, the ocean now thinning into smaller eddies and streams. But as he finally made it out of the hustle and bustle of the landing area, he came to the realization that those sapients probably weren't locals. Tourists, here for whatever festival there was he'd guess. He ducked off of the road, leaning against a the outer wall of a small shop, and from the aromas coming from within, he'd supposed was soaps or something of that nature. He reminded himself he was starting to run low on body-wash, he didn't want to be torturing Aandrisks and other such species with ah, his natural musk. Setting his bag on the ground he opened it up, rifling around for his scrib. After a few moments of blind searching he whacked it with his hand, quickly and forcefully snatching it out of the bag and giving it to his other hand he frowned. That actually hurt a bit, was more than likely going to leave a mark for at least a few minutes. Powering on his scrib he checked the Linkings for any important events that occurred today. And well it turns out there was a festival. Shimmerquick. Aeluon. Should be a fun time, especially after being cooped up in a hauler for a standard, which he felt nearly killed him.

He went deeper into what the Linkings had on Shimmerquick, and he had to restrain himself from falling down a rabbit hole, as he had a tendency to do. A very fascinating celebration, with a nice bit of legend to it. Stopping a war because one of the generals started shimmering? Neat. But he didn't need to know absolutely everything about it, just customs and dos and don'ts. Mental checklist time: Don't get mixed up in the dance, big no no. Remember to buy more bodywash, and of course, find a job. He also included this list onto his scrib just to make sure. With a light sigh he pushed himself off the wall with his back, slipping his scrib back into his bag and closing it. Now he could start looking around for employment now, or get body-wash now, considering he was probably next to a shop that specialized in such things. He decided that due to proximity he'd check out the shop next to him first. Hefting his bag up onto his shoulder he turned, striding into the shop.

He was greeted with a correct assumption. This was a soap shop, a Harmagian in xyr cart was in the back, fiddling with something. Xyr dactyli flexing... though he couldn't understand what that meant. He opened up in Klip. "Hey there." The Harmagian looked up and over, xe was old if Nemo was assuming right. They looked... drier than most Harmagians ."Ah, hello dear guest! What can I help you with today?" Xe asked in that very typical Harmagian politeness, wheeling xyr cart over to him. "Ah, just looking for anything... strong, y'know? Not really too picky on scents, just how well it... y'know." The Harmagian flexed xyr dactyli. Aw crap, he hoped he hadn't offended them somehow, if there was anything he needed to do it was look into Harmagian flex-speak or... whatever it was. But that was for later. Xe started to speak. "Well, I have such a thing! Follow me, please." Nemo did as asked, following over to a small table that displayed several bars of scented soaps. Xe pointed to one with a dactyli, "That one is lightly scented, though its not easily picked up by the human olfactory system. Still I believe it should help with your issue." Nemo nodded, picking up the bar in question. "Huh gotcha, I'll take it." The Harmagian flexed xyr dactyli again, stars, he really wished he knew what was going on. Xe wheeled themselves over to a counter, where Nemo passed his wristpatch over a scanner, getting a positive chirp in response. "Thanks, you uh, have a good day." Nemo nodded at the Harmagian, turning and leaving in what he hoped was not an impolite rush.

++++++

It felt late, though it wasn't getting an- oh, right. Coriol is tidally locked. He yawned looking around, he had put his newly purchased bar of soap in his bag earlier, and was meandering around, looking around for any sign of someone being in need of an extra hand without going to an office. But he had no such luck so far. And so he made his way to a transit station to find someplace to go for Shimmerquick. He had found the place but it was just... too crowded for his tastes, and had overheard from locals about another one going on in... Undersea or whatever it was. Probably a good place to head to for less people, he just hoped he could pass himself off as a local or at least convince someone to be his buddy for the night. Either way he was still gonna give the locals-only one a try first. And there wasn't going back anytime soon, as he was already in the transit pod to the Undersea.

A little over an hour later the pod comes to a stop, the very clear signal that it had arrived at its destination. He had his bag with him, like he always did, stepping out of the pod. This was a... bit of a nice place. The lights were dim but it was warm, not hot like the other side. But now came the time to find where to go for Shimmerquick, which was probably going to be more of a problem than he initially assumed, as he didn't know the venue or even how to get to whatever venue it might be in. And so he started asking around. His attempts at seeking assistance were initially unsuccessful until he ran into a pair of Aandrisks. One of them was blue, and the other a more green-blue. He thought that the green-blue Aandrisk was quite... pretty almost. He took a step forward, speaking up. "Hey there, might either of you know where to get to the Shimmerquick festival around here? I uh, get lost easy and need some reminding on directions." The green-blue one gave him a leery look. And giggled. She replied to him, "Huh, well the one in Undersea is for locals, and I can tell that you-" she tapped his nose with a large blunted claw "-are not a local, though good try!" Nemo gave an amused frown. "Aw shit, saw through me that fast? Damn, well I'll have to work on my acting skills then. Anyhow, I got here this... morning? I think, tidal-lock has me thrown off." The Aandrisk nodded as her compatriot looked him over. "Yeah, I got confused when I first got here too. So whatcha tryin' the one down here for? Tourists don't do you too well?" And now it was Nemo's turn to nod in affirmation. "Well, you should know Aandrisks, the more the merrier! Isn't that something like how the human saying goes?" Again, a nod. "Yep, that's pretty uh... heh. On the nose." She chortled, seeming to like his joke. "Well, c'mon, Shimmerquick isn't gonna last forever, plus you look like shit and probably need a pick-me up." And with an 'uh-huh' of approval from Nemo he followed this... rather attractive Aandrisk and her compatriot. Turns out things might be easier than they seemed.

They approached the venue, getting into line with a whole lot of other sapients looking to get in. Though as much as Nemo leaned to the left and right, the line never did seem to get any shorter, that was until he actually got in. Weird, he could've sworn there were at least twenty other people in front of Heshret, her friend (feather-brother/sister?) and him. Though nevertheless, they were actually in the building now, and being greeted by two... kids? Yeah that seems about right, two Aeluon kids were acting as greeters, which seemed really weird. At least to him, a human, but whatever. They greeted the three as a party, the one kid on the left spoke up, voicebox clicking. "Shimmer quick, and shimmer often friends!" The way he had said it, he must've practiced a lot for this. That or he'd just fallen into some sort of loop repeating it to so many others. The green-blue Aandrisk had the boy(?) scan her wristpatch as the other kid picked up some small pots of paint. She had to bend down to have the paint applied to her cheeks, just about where Aeluon cheek-patches would be. Then the kid did the same to Green-Blue's friend and then him, the paint felt, somewhat heavy in an odd way. He had gotten facepaintings before at parties and such, but maybe this paint was made in some sort of traditional manner... fun to entertain the idea of how they'd make the paint, irrelevant for now. As they entered it was clear that while specified for locals only (or maybe anyone that was with them, in Nemo's case) was still a big party. Maybe not the whole mess on the sunny side, but still a lot of people in attendance... then again, this whole thing was about coupling, so that would explain it. 

Green-Blue turned around quick enough that Nemo didn't have enough time to stop himself before bumping into her, startling himself and her. "Oh stars, I forgot again. Introductions! I'm Heshret, and this is my feather-brother Isshek." She said the last part as her feather-brother turned around, speaking for the first time, as Nemo realized. "Hey, uh, sorry for... not talking earlier." Nemo waved it off, "Its all good, I don't know what I look like right now but it can't be good." Heshret seemed to do a little bit of scouting as Nemo spoke to Isshek, as she seemed to go off in a hurry towards a bar counter, Isshek following shortly after, as did Nemo. Heshret was chatting it up with the bartender... a noticebly... plain looking bartender. Genetweak more than likely, but it was still odd to see. Even then... why? Most genetweaks make themselves look odd or pretty or uncanny but this was a new sight for him. Plain. Odd. Again, wh- "Tsst!" The sudden hiss jarred Nemo out of thought, Heshret was trying to get him to try a drink, the bartender looking on with applied interest. "Hey, you still with us? Try this, 'tender says its Sol, you might like it." Again, she offered a shot glass of kick. He took it, still in a daze after losing himself in thought. He brought the glass up to his nose, always a safe bet to smell the kick before downing it. It was strong, if nothing else. Maybe some sort of liquor or... moonshine. Whatever, after a standard in a hauler, and all the shit he'd been through a strong drink is one of the things he'd earned. He threw it back and winced, a scorching feeling going down his throat assaulted his nerves. He coughed and spluttered, "F- Stars! The hell is this? Feels like I just drank an actual star! Fuckin' ow." Heshret watched him for a moment. Before bursting out into laughter, Isshek and the bartender joining in on the schadenfreude of his situation, which then also spread onto him in the form of cackling. Really the only way he could laugh at anything anymore. "But seriously what was that?" The bartender spoke up, "Some old gin from Sol, got it off a trader who got it on Mars. Dunno why it came from there, 'cuz you know the Martians." Nemo nodded, "Yeah. Fancy fancy." Heshret and Isshek began talking to the bartender as Nemo looked around.

The venue, again was still rather large. He watched people dance, he watched people in corners and small seating areas where people laughed and drank and ah... coupled. Probably best to not watch that for fear of social reputation. But nevertheless he watched, wanting to take in these people's stories no matter how mundane. He slapped himself out of that thought. 'That's just escapism and you know it. Stop it. Got to accept reality, no more hiding away, no more avoidance. This is where we're putting our foot down. Mushtullo didn't work and if we don't MAKE this work, we are fucked.' The voice in the back of his mind went on. He had a good point, he needed to snap back, and get back on track, he really didn't wanna try a fringe colony after hearing so many horror stories that probably weren't true, but had enough believability to them. He shook off the thoughtful daze, turning his head over to look at Heshret and Isshek, who seemed to be chatting in Reskitkesh, of which Nemo didn't understand a word of. "Heshret?" She perked up, turning to face him, "Yeah, what's up?" Nemo took a moment to consider his words, looking at his feet about to betray the little voice in the back of his mind. He looked back up at her, sideways, "Those like uh... cuddle-pile things or whatever it might be called in Reskitkesh, I'm thinking about joining in on one. 'Dunno if its big news or something considering I just met you but, ah. Yeah." He made finger guns at Heshret, who probably didn't get the gesture. He was using another form of escapism, again. Heshret grinned "Yeah! That's pretty good to hear! A lot of humans aren't too big of fans about touching but glad to see you aren't one of them. C'mon! We'll find a group to invade sooner or later."

Heshret grabbed up Nemo by the arm and essentially dragged him around the venue, looking for other groups of Aandrisks. And eventually they found one, a feather family most likely. They were sort've in a pile as Nemo suspected they'd be. Heshret came over and introduced herself, Isshek, and Nemo in Reskitkesh, along with their sign language. That would be a nifty thing to learn, things too big or small to be put into words, simplified right there with a gesture. As Nemo for the third time that night got lost in thought, he was pulled into a little sea of scaled bodies the jarring suddenness almost causing him to flinch if it were not for the others on him somewhat restricting his movement. It was only then he thought it might've been disrespectful that he still had his clothes on, which it was probably too late to take care of now. And he also realized how warm it was starting to get, which was weird because Aandrisks are cold-blooded an- oh wait its because of him. That and the fact he was finding himself closer and closer to the middle of the pile, being used as a heater apparently. That was... pretty funny actually, in the middle of a bunch of cuddling Aandrisks being used as a heater. And once more he realized just how dead tired he was, surely no one would mind if he just rest- oh fuck it, he was gonna sleep then and there, not many should really be all that bothered considering the kind of festival he's at. And so he took the liberty of nodding off, falling back into the realm that held his conscious hostage every time he slept. Dreams, and hopefully tonight, they won't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey people, trogchamp here. Still going to need some criticisms for dos and do-nots. I think everyone can already tell that dialogue is not exactly my forte, something I wish to remedy in the future. But nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed the read, and enjoy the characters despite how little fleshed-out they are at the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey people, trogchamp/Troglodyte here. As you can probably tell, this is my first work. One that I hope to expand and improve upon in the future. Any and all criticism will be helpful in assisting me master the art of the written word, and thusly. My fanfiction. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and I'm very much open to suggestions still, as I want to create something that not only I enjoy, but others do as well. 
> 
> Oh and not to mention I uh, also need help in the department of navigation and other such things concerning this site.


End file.
